


you try your hardest to leave the past alone.

by TylahJayne



Series: rebirth of the soul [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, alex has a guilt complex a mile long, purposely lowercase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7448191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TylahJayne/pseuds/TylahJayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>your name was alexander hamilton.</p><p>you are no longer alexander hamilton</p>
            </blockquote>





	you try your hardest to leave the past alone.

**Author's Note:**

> idk i wrote this in like half and hour. its not beta'd and probably doesnt make any sense
> 
> title is from sleeping at last's heirloom

your name was alexander hamilton.  
  
you are no longer alexander hamilton, instead, your name is joshua camron.  
  
the year is two thousand and sixteen, and you've taken to pretending you have no clue who you were in your past life. it's not uncommon for children and teenagers to not remember, but certainly not adults. you are approaching twenty-five.  
  
you know that people will stop believing your story soon enough because it's practically unheard of for someone to be a new soul. you'll wait it out, make up some boring cover story, and play it down.  
  
you are ashamed to have ever been alexander hamilton. you were a terrible person. you had cheated on your wife with more than one person, one of them being a man, and the other being maria. you had killed your own child. ruined your first friend's political career. ruined a woman, and her child's life, just to protect your own legacy. you protested against helping out your friend.  
  
you kept your head low and stayed out of law and politics altogether. instead, you chose to pursue creative writing. you got a job, paid your own way. you weren't an immigrant, you'd been born in the country you died in. American blood through and through.  
  
it was enough to not bring even more suspicion to your life. when you were younger, you had dreams that you been someone to be proud of. you soon discovered the truth. it comes to you when you'd recognised someone, you passed them on the street. you'd been fifteen at the time. you kept walking, even as they had called out your name. they didn't need you in their lives again, you would fuck it up somehow.  
  
you never forgot that encounter, and every so often someone would recognise you, it's happened maybe four times in the past six years. not often enough to make you panic, but close enough together to set you on edge.  
  
you had the same reaction each time. if you were walking, you'd continue. you couldn't turn around, or pause, you powered through the need to turn around. if it was a social situation where you couldn't just walk away. you'd act confused, tell them your current name, apologise and wish them the best.  
  
you took drama in high school, so you knew how to keep a straight face. you built your walls, kept it all in. you were a disappointment. you kept it to yourself. someday someone was going to see through you, you didn't look forward to that day.  
  
someone once told you that guilt is the worst feeling and that if you didn't let it go, you'd never be a better person. it makes you smile now, you never could be a better person, you were alexander hamilton, the worst husband, and an even worse friend.  
  
you were tired. just plain tired. tired of hiding, tired of being you.


End file.
